


The Ghost with The Most

by madasahatter (gaytriangle)



Category: Harry Potter - J.K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Battle of Hogwarts, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Everybody Lives, Gen, Ghosts, Peeves-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25901671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaytriangle/pseuds/madasahatter
Summary: Hogwarts has many living defenders, but both book and film forget; it has not-quite-dead ones too. Nevermind; everyone’s favourite poltergeist can fix this oversight!
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	The Ghost with The Most

Hogwarts had many fine defenders, that bitterly cold May evening, many of whom risked their lives to protect their home. One being, however, had absolutely no intention of risking his life _or_ of being left out of the fun. 

A dark night was looming over Hogwarts castle. A thick cloud of mist rolled over the lawns, leaving ruin in its wake as the Death Eaters glided to their destination, dropping curses like a particularly clumsy Gryffindor would drop his books when confronted with his least favourite potions professor. They lit up the sky like fireworks, streaking to their deadly destinations and-

Wait. 

Those actually were fireworks. 

Peeves sped through the pipes to pop out by the front door, whizzing closer to Lord No-Nose. He was juggling half of Argus Filch’s cabinet of wonders, but as juggling was decidedly not a skill he had ever invested time into, kept dropping them on the heads of errant death eaters. Colin Creevey ducked out of the way of an Avada Kedavra to see his attacker enveloped in clown makeup and lose the ability to make any noise other than honking. Peeves couldn’t decide who looked more shocked at the development: Colin, or Frowny the Clown. 

“Oi!” Shouted the ghost, when he spotted Mister Snake Face himself. “Who do you think you are, spoiling all the fun?”

“I am Lord Voldemort, foolish ghost,” frowned the Lord Voldemort comma foolish ghost. “Has no one exorcised you yet?”

Peeves put a hand to his heart, completely abandoning the juggling to do so. He dropped a piranha plant, which began eating Bellatrix Lestranges hair, mistaking it for mulch (they had the same concentration of dirt). “Why, Tommy Boy, riddle me this: why’d’ya think I’m still here if exorcisms work?”

“I don’t know,” said the Lord that was really too pale to be called a _Dark_ Lord, as his most loyal follower was pulled into the mouth of the flower, which looked hungrily at Rodolphus and Rabastan. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

Peeves grinned, and flew real close, through Lucius Malfoy, who rather looked like he wanted to be sick, although that could simply be his face. “Old Peevesy is friend to mischief makers and risk takers, and so long as either are in that castle, so am I!”

He finished off this admittedly rather dramatic declaration (even by his standards) by snatching the Elder Wand out of the slimy looking Dark Lords’ spiderlike fingers and zipping away. “Can’t play got your nose, so I’ll take this instead!” he declared, to general screams and unsettlement. (Really, though, the Umbitch was louder - he certainly wasn’t lord of screams!) The Deathstick didn’t really work for a poltergeist, though, so instead he zipped up to the seventh floor corridor, and deposited it at the feet of one of the very few people a being of chaos had ever respected. 

“Blimey, Peeves!” roared Forge Weasley. “Give a guy some warning!”

Peeves shook his head so hard that it spun three hundred and sixty degrees. “No fun in that, Master Weasley! I’ve brought you a present, since you brought me so many laughs. Snake-Faces’ wand itself.”

Forge exchanged a startled glance with Gred. “Peeves,” he said slowly. “Did you steal Lord Voldemort’s wand?”

He nodded, his head flying through his sternum and out the back in one fluid motion. The goodie-two-shoes Weasley looked like he was going to be sick. “If he didn’t want it stolen, he shouldn’t have pointed it at me!”

Gred and Forge exchanged another look. Blimey, they were doing that a lot! They better not start going all _boring_ , exchanging glances and not even bothering to attack people! “If all you’re going to do is stare, Peevsies mischief is needed elsewhere!”

The silence was broken. Forge took the Deathstick in his left, Gred took up position at his right, and the poltergeist flew straight through the middle, looking for trouble. Or, more accurately, for a friend to do it with. 

~

The ghosts of hogwarts were holding council. They couldn’t decide what to do about the invasion. Completely incorporeal they were, but they could be petrified, or exorcised, or simply banished. And even if they did fight, they were still, yknow, completely incorporeal. The council room (the old staff room) was filled floor to ceiling with rings of glowing figures, locked in a standstill. 

Then Peeves popped up in the centre, shooting out of the ground like a particularly irksome balloon, bouncing off the walls and his fellow not-quite-alivers at top speed. “Oh, somebody get the Baron!” shrieked Sir Nicholas. 

“Harry Potter cleansed Lady Helenas diadem this morning. Neither of them have been seen since... everyone else can get away, I suppose,” said Myrtle Warren, sadly, although that identifier really implies that she is capable of feeling something else. 

“Peeves, good fellow, it’s good to see you! Why were you late?” said Friar Johannes, smiling. (Peeves refused to call him the fat friar. He was a prankster, not malicious. Well. Not unless they deserved it. Which Johannes didn’t, so there!)

“I’m not late! I’m early! You lot are late to the PARTY!” said Peeves, as he manifested a party blower and a whole crown of hats. He began lobbing the latter at each ghost as they glared, or sighed, or in the case of one new arrival from a certain cave of Inferi, clapped. A very respectable lady ghost from the 12th century that spoke not a lick of Modern English made a point of brushing off his spectral spittle, so she got two. 

“We’ve been debating that all evening, good fellow,” said the Friar, with a hint of mischief in his eyes. Friar Johannes - wait, that’s a bit long for a name of a friend. Let’s use his most infamous nickname. Friar Tuck had a mischievous glint in his eyes that Peeves just loved to see. He knew instantly which side this ghost had been arguing for! 

“Wah, wah, wah, debate! I’ve taken U-No-Poos wand from his hand while you’ve been debating!” At the shocked looks he got (did they really think he’d done nothing all evening?) he stuck out his chest about two feet, in pride, manifesting a medal for Notable Nuisance. “If you don’t want to get hit, possess the armour or the drapes or the DEATH EATERS! This was our home first, and they can’t just go making new ghosts without asking!”

Nearly Headless Nick held one hand to his notable head, like a Victorian on a fainting couch. He really had had too much fun, when that was the fashion. “After this, I’m retiring.”

Friar Tuck gave him a speculative glance. “I may just join you, good sir, after one last ride.”

~

It was quiet uptown- err, outside. Voldeboring was giving some speech about Harry Potter being dead (and what’s so bad about that, hmm!) and the whole world was holding its breath. Suddenly, a rumble. The defenders turned to stare. Was it another giant? The very stones of hogwarts crumbling? No. It’s- 

Err

A suit of armour? 

Voldemort laughed, casting an idle curse at it. “Is this the best you can do?”

He watched the green light arc over the battlefield, hitting the figure in the neck, which promptly detached. Head and helmet separated, revealing a whooping Ser Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington. “You’ll have to do better than that, Thomas! Charge!”

The double doors burst open in a flood of mayhem, Peeves front and centre. There was Friar Tuck, wrapped in the tapestry of Maid Marian from the fourth floor corridor, wielding a bow with ghostly arrows and deadly precision. Each attack only froze the victim for a moment, but that was more than enough for Hannah Abbott to swoop in and finish them off. 

And to the left, Headmaster Ambrose Swott has been pulled out from making Trelawneys lights flicker for the charge, flitting between possessions and forcing the Death Eaters to recite facts about Divination and Arithmancy. Parvati Patil, who had befriended the old soul, shook herself out of her surprise and followed behind, cursing the souls that didn’t speak fast enough with unrivalled glee. 

Myrtle Warren wasn’t visible on the battlefield, per se, but one could certainly tell where she was - she moved between Death Eater and Death Eater, projecting such an aura of abject misery that even Rookwood fell to the ground in tears. Beside the howling former Unspeakable, Binns was very visible indeed, ruler in hand, whacking death eaters. “Back! To! Class! Weatherby! Simmons! What do you think you’re doing?”

Even Edmund Grubb, who was usually never seen outside the kitchen, was wandering the battlefield with a slingshot and a handful of poisonous berries. Though he wasn’t really killing anyone, he was certainly distracting. 

And there, front and centre, was Peeves, watching it all with a growing sense of glee. What a day for a poltergeist. He swooped between curses, crawled out of the earth like a technicolour zombie, and generally made a nuisance of himself. Upon seeing some of the defenders of Hogwarts standing still in awe, he flew back to the doors and blew a raspberry. “What are you doing?! Are you witches and wizards or not!”

With a roar like thunder and a chuckle of glee, the battle was lost for the forces of evil. 

~  
. 

On August the Thirty-First,1998, McGonagall stands on a podium in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Behind was her a much changed roster of teachers. A glowing Parvati Patil (not literally, though she wouldn’t mind) and a squirrelly Draco Malfoy taking over as Divination and Potions Professors, respectively. Surprising no one, it was Charlie Weasley who took up the Care of Magical Creatures seat, although Andromeda Tonks as Joint Professor for Muggle Studies and Wizarding Culture did raise a few eyebrows. She was mostly here to look after Remus Lupin, who sat three chairs over, sans one leg and with a baby in a decisively Muggle stroller behind him. He was finally back where he belonged as DADA Professor, with the ghost of Sirius Black holding his hand from his position in the History of Magic chair. 

Neville Longbottom lounged by the side, taking over as Groundskeeper after Hagrids transfer to Beauxbatons, though how much gardening he would do there was debatable. And, of course, Minervas own long held chair as Transfiguration Mistress had finally moved beyond her grasp into the hands of Astoria Greengrass, who had the twin talents of Transfiguration and keeping her nose to herself, though she did flick sideways glances at Malfoy every so often. Yes, Hogwarts had changed. 

But so had her students. One day before term officially started, the Great Hall was flooded. Her defenders, her students, her alumni, even Muggle relatives of the above flooded the benches. And above still floated a twinkling mosh pit of ghosts - some newly deceased, some merely deciding to end their long isolation and rejoin society. The newly reconstructed Great Hall had more bodies- err, people in it than it had in many, many years. 

“Thank you for coming,” said Minerva, and the crowd quieted as surely as if she had screamed. “This year will be different than many before it. In some ways, brighter, because we have finally cleared darkness from our halls. In some ways, darker, because we’re missing many that should be walking with us.” The crowd turned somber, and held a moment of silence. Even Peeves didn’t dare break it, holding his tie dye bowler hat to his chest. 

“But, as Dumbledore was so fond of saying, happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if one decides to turn on a light. With that in mind, let’s move to happier announcements, shall we? Our staff table has changed, as you can see. Our buildings, rebuilt. But most importantly of all, all four of our House Ghosts have chosen not to remain with us.”

Friar Tuck, now significantly less bloodthirsty than when the crowd had last seen him, waved from beside Finally-Headless Nick. The pair were holding hands. “Retirement comes for us all,” said Nick, sadly. “We’re going to Fiji!” said the Friar. 

“As such, let me introduce our new House Ghosts. These four represent everything their House stands for, and it’s my honour and privilege to let you meet them,” said Minerva, with just a little twinkle in her eye as the crowd shifted eagerly. She did like doing this kind of announcement. 

“Hufflepuff House has long had a cheery ghost, unafraid of the toil that is keeping a thousand teenagers on a bright path. There is no one more suited to the task hard work, fairness, and fun, than this ghost. Give a warm, well, wotcher, to Nympha-“

“Tonks!” roared a voice from the ceiling, diving down in a riot of colours so unlike the rest of her fellows. Knowing this was coming, Andromeda gave a wet chuckle into her teacup, and Remus Lupin rolled his eyes. She gave a bow to the raucous crowd, and promptly zipped behind the table to give Teddy her love. 

McGonagall waited for the crowd to quieten (except Teddy, who was really into this whole ‘incorporeal light show that pays attention to me’ thing) before continuing. “The Bloody Baron brought fear into the dungeons for many years. Students were afraid to go to him with even the most major of crises, and indeed, there were many. Slytherin deserves a ghost that knows of ambition, cunning, and self-preservation, but also when one must move away from tradition to strike their own path. It is a great honour to introduce Regulus Black!”

Murmurs flew across the room as a ghost rose from beneath the Slytherin table. Unlike the other ghosts assembled, Regulus looked absolutely soaking wet, dripping little spectral drops onto those that had the misfortune of being below him (sorry, Pansy. You only deserved that a little). Even his voice sounded like it came from a great distance under the waves. “Slytherin is not a house of monsters. Slytherin is a house of tradition, and our own special kind of loyalty and bravery. I am not the Bloody Baron come again,” he said, hovering above his brothers place setting on the staff table and covering Remus’ plate in spectral water. 

“Wasn’t he a Death Eater?” hissed Seamus Finnegan, as though that would let his comment pass unheard. 

Regulus shrugged, showing off his left forearm, which did indeed bear a watery Dark Mark. “I got better”, he said. 

McGonagall cleared her throat, and the murmurs died down. “Next, for Ravenclaw House, we have a most unusual ghost. She was a creative spirit, dedicated to the truth even when that was unwise, and displayed her own unique brand of cleverness. She defended this castle in May, but her death came, erm, at the end of a long and happy life. Ravenclaw, I give you...” her voice trailed off, before she sighed. “Luna Lovegood!”

This time the noise was absolutely deafening, and mostly centred on a blonde figure sitting at the Ravenclaw table. Luna Lovegood Junior continued eating her pudding, heedless, as her conversation partner floated up to the head table. The two Lunas looked almost identical, though the ghostly version had quite long hair, and bore a set of Spectrespecs in traditional blue and pink, rather than ghostly grey. “Luna,” said Lisa Turpin, from a few seats down, referring to the teenager. “You’re not dead.”

“Well, no one told her that,” said the young blonde. “And no one should. It would just break her heart.” 

McGonagall, after the noise showed no signs of quieting, threw a shower of fireworks from her wand. “And finally!” she yelled. “My own house finds itself in need of a ghost, and we have one from within the castle willing to step up. One of the principal defenders in May, who displayed stunning nerve, I give you- Peeves!”

Fred and George Weasley fell of their seats at the announcement as Peeves erupted from under the table, spinning cartwheels as Catherine Wheels taped to his feet set sparks flying through the air. 

“Weee! Peevesie is a real ghost, he’s been waiting far too long,  
Peeves put the fear in Moldy-shorts and now he sings this song!  
Gryffindor, never fear, you get a true ghost today,  
But hang on! It can’t be me - peeves’ got all his pranks to play!”

At the end of his song, Peeves was standing on the Headmistress’ Podium, head spinning (literally, much to the distaste of those that had to watch.) A laugh echoed from underneath the podium as the final spectral surprise for the evening appeared. “Was the song too much?” 

“Lavender!” shrieked Padma Patil, as well as a few other less important characters, including Astoria and Neville from the staff table. Indeed, it was Lavender Brown - just as beautiful as she’d been in life, with three claw marks across her chin weeping blood and a gouge taken out of her chest. The first highlighted her stunning smile, and the second was just badass enough that she’d have respect of the Lions even after her friends had left the castle. 

“Lavender”, she agreed, with a tinkling laugh. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t come back till after the reconstruction efforts, and Peeves thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

McGonagall wiped her brow. “You’ve certainly got surprise, Lavender, though I’m not sure Peeves knows the definition of nice.”

“I know the definition!” said Peeves, showing off a dictionary he had filched from Hermione Grangers bag. “I just don’t care about it!”

The crowd laughed, feeling a bit more settled. “Gryffindor,” said Lavender, “is the house of daring, nerve, and chivalry. But you can dare to be kind, have the nerve to be yourself, and turn chivalry to kindness. We aren’t just the House of daredevils. Reg and I, we want to change what our houses stand for. We’re all Hogwarts, at the end of the day.”

Peeves, who really, had been very patient as they wrapped up this part of the whole affair, snapped his incorporeal fingers. With a bang, the whole castle found themselves wearing full face masks of badgers, lions, eagles and snakes, with absolutely no correlation to their actual House. McGonagall looked out from her snake mouth and pointed her wand at him as Filch (and his stylish new raven look) chased him out of the Great Hall with a broom. “Poltergeist!” came the roar. 

‘Yes,’ thought Peeves. ‘This is the way it was meant to be.’

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware that ‘everybody lives’ isn’t quite the right tag, but ‘either everybody lives or comes back as a ghost which is, in this context, functionally the same to being alive’ didn’t seem catchy. 
> 
> All ghosts mentioned are canonical Hogwarts Ghosts according to the wikia


End file.
